


Space Oddity

by writingandchocolatemilk



Series: UsUk Oneshots [12]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Space, Humans, M/M, Song fic ish, Space Flight, space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 16:46:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4107940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingandchocolatemilk/pseuds/writingandchocolatemilk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> Major Alfred Jones sat in his spaceship, with the world watching him. Arthur Kirkland sat in the cramped, tiny Ground Control, eyes glued on the small computer screen which was the only visual connection to the astronaut he and his colleagues had. </p><p>Unconsciously, Arthur’s eyes flicked up to Alfred’s hair on the screen, thinking that the blurry pixels lived nothing up to the boy’s actual wheat colored locks.</p><p> </p><p>Nearby, Francis Bonnefoy was typing rapidly on a computer somewhere to Arthur’s right. Arthur heard him curse and turned to look at the Frenchman. “What is it? Tell me one of the interns didn’t screw up a calculation last night. They were only supposed to go over for their training.” Arthur turned to the back of Ground Control, preparing to rage at the line of interns who stood against the wall.</p><p>“<i>Non</i>, I am just nervous something is screwed up…” Francis clicked his tongue. “That…” He sat back, letting out a strained breath through his teeth.</p><p>Arthur turned back to the row of computers, eyes locking onto Alfred. “Even if you did, he knows what to do. Three years for preparing for this day—in any way it could go wrong.” Arthur was unaware of Francis' look. “He won’t mess up.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Space Oddity

**Author's Note:**

> **I'd listen to[this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nP6xBFyA_aw) if you want to make _any_ sense of this. :)**

 Major Alfred Jones sat in his spaceship, with the world watching him. Arthur Kirkland sat in the cramped, tiny Ground Control, eyes glued on the small computer screen which was the only visual connection to the astronaut he and his colleagues had. 

Unconsciously, Arthur’s eyes flicked up to Alfred’s hair on the screen, thinking that the blurry pixels lived nothing up to the boy’s actual wheat colored locks. 

Nearby, Francis Bonnefoy was typing rapidly on a computer somewhere to Arthur’s right. Arthur heard him curse and turned to look at the Frenchman. “What is it? Tell me one of the interns didn’t screw up a calculation last night. They were only supposed to go over for their training.” Arthur turned to the back of Ground Control, preparing to rage at the line of interns who stood against the wall.

“ _Non_ , I am just nervous something is screwed up…” Francis clicked his tongue, fingers rapidly flying across the board. “That…” He sat back, letting out a strained breath through his teeth.

Arthur turned back to the row of computers, eyes locking onto Alfred. “Even if you did, he knows what to do. Three years for preparing for this day—in any way it could go wrong.” Arthur was unaware of Francis' look. “He won’t mess up.”

Arthur pulled up a small microphone, clicking the button at the base. He saw Alfred on the screen straighten, eagerly awaiting someone to instruct him it was time to launch. Arthur grinned. “Ground Control to Major Jones.”

Alfred responded on the screen, talking into his own microphone, “Hey, Artie! You aren’t nervous for me, are you? Trust me; this ol’ tin can get me up!” The bright voice was crackling, but it was the same voice that Arthur loved none the less.

Arthur let out an impatient sigh, though he felt himself smiling. “I told you: you respond with Ground Control!” He watched Alfred on the screen through his arms in the air. “Anyways, don’t forget to take your protein pills—and put your helmet on. You’re going up in one minute.”

Arthur watched as Alfred put his helmet on, and then looked up to the numerous screens on the far wall. The center monitor had the launch station, to show how the rocket looked still in its hanger. Several screens showed the surrounding air space where the rocket would be flying. The ones around the edges had the countdown in large green numbers. Arthur turned back to the microphone.

“Ground Control to Major Jones, the final countdown is starting.” On the screen, Alfred quickly reached out to flip numerous switches. “The engines are on.” Alfred and Arthur checked their various screens. “Checked the ignition… And Alfred,” Alfred on screen looked at the camera, “May God’s love be with you.”

            _Ten._

_Nine._

_Eight._

_Seven._

_Six._

_Five._

_Four._

_Three._

_Two._

_One._

_Liftoff._

_…_

It took Arthur three days of fighting with the press and various world leaders to finally make it back to Ground Control. He had felt awful about leaving Alfred up in the heavens without talking to him, but the world was abuzz with the successful launch. In fact, it had gone so far that several clothes brands had been attacking Arthur throughout the past seventy-two hours, trying to get Alfred to sign as a sponsor for various dress shirts.

When Arthur finally grabbed the microphone to Alfred, he almost cried out through the airwaves in relief. It was a few minutes before Alfred touched down on the distant moon. Above, the monitors were filled with images from distant stars and the belt of the Milky Way Galaxy.

“Ground Control to Major Jones.” Arthur waited as the sound traveled up to Alfred, who jerked on the screen in response. “God, Alfred, you’re a cut above the rest. Everyone wants to know whose shirts you’ve been wearing.”

Alfred tried to respond, but only a crackle made in through before it was time for him to steer the spacecraft onto the surface of the moon and land. Arthur watched as Alfred maneuvered his craft, turning knobs and multitasking so skillfully that Arthur admired him.

Francis sat next to Arthur and watched along with him, occasionally typing something into his computer. Arthur watched with a strained excitement as he landed on the surface.

Arthur grinned into the microphone. “Alright, Major Jones, now for the hard part. Ready to leave your ship… If you dare?” Francis shot Arthur a look, but he ignored it. He was allowed those comments; he had hardly seen Alfred, after all.

Alfred prepared for his spacewalk, adoring layer after layer of clothing. Arthur watched as the man he knew slowly disappeared under bulky equipment. Finally, Alfred’s sweet voice came buzzing out the microphone like a swarm of bees.

“Major Jones to Ground Control, I’m stepping through the door,” Alfred said, heading out of his small craft.

Francis and Arthur almost lost sight of Alfred. There could only be so many external cameras placed on Alfred’s craft, so the man soon disappeared beyond the cameras’ ranges. Arthur’s eyes were glued to Alfred’s heart monitor, watching as his heartbeat began to speed up.

 “Major Jones, everything alright?” Arthur asked when his panic became too much to bear. The few seconds it took for the sound to travel was killing Arthur. The few it took for Alfred to respond were agonizing.

“Arthur, this is incredible,” Alfred breathed, causing a storm of static to accompany his voice. “It’s like swimming, the same kind of weightlessness. And the stars… Arthur, you should see the stars. It’s all so… So…” The transmission trailed off.

“Peculiar?” Arthur suggested, smile tugging at his mouth.

“Yeah… Peculiar…” Alfred sighed static into his microphone.

…

Francis had taken over for Arthur, who had almost been falling asleep at his station. He still had interviews for the press tomorrow, and Francis had thought it best to send the poor man home for the night. Alfred had returned to orbit around the moon, and was preparing for his return trip.

Francis was just beginning to review the data the spaceship had sent back when Alfred began to talk. “How far away am I from home?” He asked.

Francis looked at the monitors. Alfred was looking out one of the windows, towards Earth. He had an odd smile on his face. Francis set aside his computer, focusing in on the microphone. “Over two hundred thousand miles. You know this, Major Jones,” Francis said slowly.

“It’s weird…” There was a long break in the transmission, “I don’t feel like I’m moving. Earth’s getting smaller and smaller, but I don’t feel affected at all. The world is so small, Francis. It’s so beautiful. It doesn’t matter if I come back.”

Francis blinked, mind racing. “Major Jones,” he began to type furiously at his computer, checking Alfred’s position. “I need you to tell me your current position. Has your spaceship malfunctioned?” Alfred had reported electrical glitches, and had cracked open the control panel to fix it. “Ground Control to Major Jones,” Francis cut it, sharp. “Please come in.”

There was a painful silence.

“I think… I think my spaceship knows where she’s going, Francis.”

Francis checked and double checked the information that was pouring into his computer. “No… No! Alfr—Major Jones you need to get that thing _turned around_!” Francis gave a frustrated swipe at his computer, looking back up at Alfred on the numerous screens. “Damn it, Alfred!” Francis broke.

Alfred was still looking out his window. “Can… Can you do me a favor? Can you tell Arthur that I love him?” There was a static filled laugh. “He knows…”

…

Arthur flew into Ground Control, scattering interns like a flock of birds. “What do you mean?” He yelled at Francis, storming up to him. “Where is he bloody going?!”

Francis opened his mouth to respond, but Arthur pushed by him. He pushed a chair out of the way, crouching in front of the microphone. He pressed the button, fear flowing through him when there was no static from the speaker.

“Ground Control to Major Jones!” Arthur said, surprised he wasn’t screaming. “Your circuit’s dead—there’s something wrong.” No response, though a trickle of static. “Can you hear me, Major Jones?”

More static.

“Can you hear me, Major Jones?” Arthur could hear his voice becoming more desperate. “Can you hear me, Major Jones?” He was yelling, “Can you hear—“ He realized Alfred was talking from the other end, and he hadn’t heard the beginning.

“… Here, floating ‘round my tin can,” Alfred let out that laugh that Arthur loved. “I’m so far away from the moon, Arthur. And the Earth…” A silence that made Arthur’s heart hurt. “It’s still so blue. There’s nothing I can do.”

All sound from the microphone cut off.

Arthur started down at the metal.

“Alfred?”

The name was blasted into space, missing the man it was meant for. The sound went tumbling through darkness, forever, forever…


End file.
